—Ayumi…—
The door closed behind her.
The click of the lock was barely a whisper, but Ayumi felt it like a gunshot to the heart.
Her face was pale. Her hands still cold.
And the gun… hidden beneath her jacket. Carefully concealed.
Her mother couldn't see it.
She pretended everything was normal.
A faint smile.
A "I'm fine" that didn't convince even the air around her.
She walked toward her room slowly, closing the door without a sound.
Only once alone, she let herself fall onto the chair.
Her hands were trembling. But not from fear.
It was something else.
Confusion.
She had thought that by confronting him, screaming at him, pointing a weapon at him…
She would feel relief.
Revenge.
Strength.
But instead?
Nothing.
Only him.
Still, with those lifeless eyes.
He hadn't reacted.
Hadn't defended himself.
He had asked her to pull the trigger.
And he would have accepted it.
Like one accepts the rain.
Ayumi hugged herself.
She couldn't be kind anymore.
Not to him.
He had hurt her too much.
Too deeply.
But that face…
That face kept flashing through her mind like a wound refusing to close.
It wasn't the face of an evil man.
Not even that of a killer.
It was worse.
Something broken.
Empty.
And Ayumi, despite everything, couldn't chase it out of her thoughts.
"What happened to you, Feitan?"
"Who stole your heart?"
"How much pain did it take to become like this?"
She hated him.
Yes.
But a part of her… wanted to understand.
She wanted to know how much pain it took to hollow out a soul so young.
And it wasn't forgiveness.
It wasn't empathy.
It was instinct.
A need for meaning.
The desire not to let darkness win without an explanation.
She took off her jacket. Hid the gun under the bed.
Then she sat down.
In silence.
Staring into the void.
The same void she had seen in his eyes.
And she wondered…
if it was still possible to understand.
—Feitan…—
A month had passed.
Feitan knew exactly.
Thirty-one days.
Forty-four thousand six hundred twenty minutes.
And not one mission violent enough to truly distract him.
He had tried.
He had cut.
He had tortured.
He had even smiled.
But when everything turned quiet again—when the blood dried and the mask returned to the drawer…
she was still there.
Ayumi.
Not her face.
Not her voice.
Her eyes.
Those eyes that hadn't feared him.
That hadn't hated him.
That had seen him.
Truly seen him.
Feitan wasn't prepared for that.
He had no tools.
No defense.
And something, slowly, began to change.
Not pain.
Not affection.
A need.
He needed those eyes on him.
Again.
Not to be loved.
But to exist.
Because when Ayumi had looked at him, it wasn't a shadow being seen.
It was a man.
And so it happened.
The first gesture.
One that made no sense.
That served no purpose.
That no one had asked of him.
One night, returning from a mission, he found a kitten in front of his door.
Small. Dirty. Trembling.
Anyone else would have ignored it.
Others would've chased it away.
A Feitan from a week ago… would have let it die.
But not that night.
He picked it up.
Brought it inside.
Gave it milk.
And sat watching it for hours.
He didn't pet it.
Didn't name it.
Didn't look at it with affection.
He simply… didn't drive it away.
It was incomprehensible.
Unacceptable.
But real.
The kitten curled up in a corner.
Feitan remained still, watching.
Breathing.
And in his mind — Ayumi's eyes.
Those eyes that had looked at him without fleeing.
Without screaming.
Without hating.
They had seen him.
And had then chosen not to kill him.
Feitan didn't know what to call that act.
It wasn't pity.
It wasn't empathy.
It wasn't love.
It was the first sign that something inside him had started to crack.
And that crack…
bore the silent name of a girl
who once left him cookies.
He couldn't stay away from her.
Feitan didn't seek contact.
Nor words.
He didn't want to touch her or talk to her.
He just wanted to see her.
To see her in her world — the one he didn't belong to.
Where everything was light, routine, small things.
He, in the dark. She, in the sun.
He took a pair of binoculars — once a tool for missions, now reduced to an instrument of obsession.
He began watching her.
From rooftops. From balconies.
From behind tree branches.
Every time she touched herself. Every time she undressed.
He was there.
She didn't know.
She couldn't know.
But he was there.
Always.
He observed her movements.
In her everyday life.
How she bent down to water the flowers.
How she sat, hands in her lap, in silence.
How she stared into the void, lost in thought.
And that lens between them… was no longer enough.
The kitten jumped onto the chair beside him.
Feitan looked at it, expressionless.
"Leave."
The kitten meowed softly. Touched his arm with its paw.
It wanted to play. It sought contact.
Like Ayumi.
Feitan picked it up with two fingers and set it on the ground.
"I'm not made for things that stay."
He murmured.
The kitten came back.
Stubborn.
Like the thought of her.
Then, one evening…
She stepped outside.
She was hanging wet laundry.
The sunset light cut across her face.
Feitan stood still on the balcony.
In the shadows.
Her hands moved with grace.
In every gesture, there was an unintentional sweetness.
A harmony that didn't belong to his world.
She looked up, just for a moment.
Not toward him.
Toward the sky.
Feitan didn't flinch.
Didn't hide.
He knew she wouldn't see him.
But he wanted to be there.
He wanted that image.
Ayumi didn't smile.
Her face was neutral, maybe a little tired.
But to him, it was like witnessing something unrepeatable.
Something he didn't deserve.
Then she went back inside.
The curtain closed.
The day ended.
Feitan remained on the balcony.
The kitten returned.
Curled up against his leg.
This time, he didn't push it away.
Not this time.
And in the silence of evening, as night stretched over the rooftops like a cold sheet,
Feitan felt something he hated more than anything else:
Waiting.
—Ayumi…—
For several days now, Ayumi had felt she wasn't alone.
It wasn't a sound.
It wasn't a shadow.
Just a sensation.
Subtle. Invisible. Constant.
Eyes.
Always.
On her.
Sometimes she turned around suddenly in the street.
But no one was there.
No suspicious figure.
No footsteps behind her.
Only emptiness.
And yet…
That emptiness felt full.
She began changing habits.
She no longer walked to school.
Took the bus instead, even if it was farther, even if it was inconvenient.
When she returned home, she looked out the window.
With no real reason.
As if searching for something…
she didn't want to find.
Every night, her heart raced.
And in her dreams, that masked face came back to haunt her.
But he never touched her.
Just stared.
Only that.
And she… woke up drenched in sweat.
One afternoon, like so many others, she was walking home from school.
Backpack slung over one shoulder, walking slowly.
The sun was warm, but it couldn't reach her heart.
She looked up without thinking.
Toward the villa.
Something moved.
On the balcony railing…
A tiny kitten.
Gray.
Chubby.
Clumsily walking, as if still learning to exist in the world.
It slipped, paused, meowed softly.
Ayumi froze.
She stared for several seconds.
That balcony.
His balcony.
Her heart dropped.
He was alive.
He was there.
He was still there.
But the kitten…
It was so innocent, so clean, so unlike anything she remembered from that house.
A thought struck her — cold and confused:
"Did he save it?"
Feitan.
The boy who kidnapped her.
Threatened her. Humiliated her.
Broke her.
He…
had saved a cat?
"How?"
Feitan had no heart.
No mercy.
He felt nothing.
How could he have spared something so fragile?
Ayumi hugged herself.
That gesture — the very thought that it could come from him —
confused her more than violence.
A kind gesture.
From someone who should never have known kindness.
She stayed there. Watching the kitten.
Until it disappeared into the shadows of the house.
And then, Ayumi did something she hadn't done in a long time:
She sat down on the ground, in front of her house.
And stayed there.
Not thinking.
Just watching.
Because something was moving.
Inside her.
And she was afraid…
that it wasn't just memory.
—The next day…—
She found it in front of her door.
Sitting.
Still.
As if it were waiting.
The kitten.
The same one.
Gray, a little chubby, with a crooked tail and eyes yellow like unripe lemons.
Ayumi froze.
Her heart skipped a beat.
It was him.
The one she'd seen the night before.
On the balcony.
At Feitan's house.
The kitten looked at her.
Let out a soft meow.
As if it knew.
As if it had searched for her.
As if… it was asking something.
Ayumi slowly knelt.
Reached out a hand.
The little creature didn't run.
On the contrary, it approached, rubbed its head against her wrist, meowing in a broken, insistent way.
It wanted affection.
It sought contact as if starved of it.
She picked it up.
The kitten let her.
Squirmed a bit, curled up, placed a paw on her chest.
Ayumi smiled, softly.
The first real smile in a long time.
"Are you lost?"
No.
It wasn't lost.
It had come to her.
Or… had it been sent?
That thought chilled her blood for a second.
She looked toward the villa.
Closed her eyes.
She already knew what she was about to do.
Minutes later, she was climbing the steps of the house she never wanted to see again.
The kitten in her arms.
Her heart in her throat.
Her mind at war.
Every cell inside her screamed to turn back.
To leave it there.
Run.
But she didn't.
She knocked.
Once.
Twice.
No answer.
The house was silent.
The kitten curled up in her arms.
Calm.
As if it knew it was in the right place.
Ayumi was about to turn and leave, when she heard a sound.
A step.
Behind the door.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Then…
the door opened.
Him.
Feitan.
The same eyes.
The same face.
The same silence.
He stared at her.
She lowered her gaze only for a moment.
"I think he's yours."
She offered him the kitten.
Her hands trembled slightly.
But not from fear.
From memory.
Feitan said nothing.
Looked at the animal.
Then looked at her.
No emotion.
But also no rejection.
Ayumi stood still for another second.
Then let go.
The kitten jumped from her arms and entered the house on its own.
As if it knew the way.
She stayed there, on the threshold.
Feitan still stared.
But something in his eyes seemed… different.
Not warmth.
Not gratitude.
But hesitation.
As if he didn't know how to accept a gesture that shouldn't exist.
Ayumi said nothing else.
She turned.
And walked away.
But inside… something had changed.
And neither of them could pretend anymore
that everything had stayed the same.